


The Well

by sign_from_god_complex



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fae & Fairies, Fae Morality | Patton Sanders, M/M, Magic, Roman is a little bit of an idiot but he's doing his best, Supernatural Elements, Terminal Illnesses, Virgil is a good brother and a terrible example, don't make deals with fae y'all, even if they are very pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21880000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sign_from_god_complex/pseuds/sign_from_god_complex
Summary: Virgil couldn’t speak—too caught up in the way every aspect of the fae looked just a little too perfect. It felt like a viewing someone from a dream, features seeming to shift and change before his eyes, almost fluid.Patton smiled brightly, showcasing his teeth in a brilliant and terrifying display. “That’s what I thought.”Or, Virgil’s always appreciated water, but this time he may be in too deep.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Brotherly Analogical, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 7
Kudos: 105





	The Well

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Talk about a main character with a mostly nondescript (probably) terminal illness, mentions of death.

He’d always had an affinity for deep water.

It was something that should have made him afraid—after all, the ocean was often treacherous and unkind—but instead, it made him feel safe. It reminded him, the same way the stars did for Logan, how insignificant they really were. There was so much to uncover, so much to know that they didn’t know yet and it was immensely fascinating.

The well before him was dark and damp, rough under his fingertips as he gripped on to it, leaning over the side to see the water below. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the blackness but eventually, a picture came into focus on the surface of the water, rippling and moving ever so slightly before his eyes. Despite the distance, he was still able to make it out perfectly.

The boy in the image was dark-haired—strong but afraid, the adrenaline once coursing through his veins seemingly absent in the solitude of this clearing. There was eyeliner smudged under big, brown eyes, as they studied the water, just watching. Waiting.

“I told you it was going to be fine, Virgil!”

A voice pulled him from his reverie, boisterous and not at all discreet—he was starting to wonder if Roman _understood_ the concept of being discreet. Recent events seemed to prove otherwise.

He pushed back from the well, pressing a finger to his lips in an insistent shush. Roman rolled his eyes and Virgil had to fight to not hit him over the head at his arrogance.

“We could easily still be found, dumbass,” he hissed, pulling Roman away from the entrance of the clearing so he was further obscured, just in case, “I’d rather you not go around yelling out our position if you could be so kind.”

The sound of the guards had faded away a long time ago but it always paid to be cautious—plus, someone had to look out for the two of them without Logan around, god knows Roman wasn’t doing it.

Roman approached the structure beside them, hesitant for the first time since he’d arrived. “So this is the well?”

It was unassuming—a basic cobblestone well, with a wooden roof overhead, a bucket and a rope. You’d think nothing of it if you happened to pass by it on your morning walk—something you were unlikely to do, it was quite enclosed and out of the way—which Virgil supposed was the point.

He joined Roman staring down into the well again, the vision of the man now joined by his friend—a shock of red hair and freckles and big bright eyes, chewing at his lip in concern. Virgil didn’t really think Roman had the right to be worried now, considering he was the one who’d suggested this in the first place.

“You got the coin?” Virgil asked.

He watched his companion pull a small medallion out of his coat pocket, turning it over in his fingers a few times. “I do. Though I have to admit, it was a bitch to acquire, Virge. We’re gonna owe Remy _so_ _much_ after this one.”

Virgil scoffed. “As if we don’t already.”

“Touche.”

They both stood there, staring down at the slowly curling water of the well, neither wanting to make the final move to seal their fates. It lasted a few moments more before Virgil stood up, taking a deep breath and holding out a hand for Roman to pass him the coin. The medallion felt heavy in his palm, the weight of both the solid metal and the choice he was about to make pressing him down towards the ground.

“Well,” he said, holding the coin out over the top of the well, “Here goes nothing.”

And then he dropped it.

Distantly a splash could be heard as the coin hit the surface of the water but Virgil’s ears were ringing so it was lost to him. He stepped back, his heartbeat speeding up as he came to the realisation of what he had just done. Roman was much the same—shock on his face, though missing the dread present on his own as Roman was not the one to make the sacrifice. It wasn’t Roman’s life at stake.

There were a few moments where nothing happened, and Virgil was almost hoping in the back of his mind that the legend was only that—a legend—but then… there was light.

The well began to glow—softly at first, though picking up intensity as the seconds ticked by—and though it hurt Virgil’s eyes to see at he found himself unable to look away. He was unaware and uncaring of whether Roman was doing the same; right then all that existed was Virgil and the well.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

Jerked out of whatever spell he’d been caught up in, Virgil spun around towards the voice, worried that it was one of the other villagers who’d caught them… but it wasn’t. It _definitely_ wasn’t.

The man standing before them was terrifyingly beautiful—large grey eyes framed with thick eyelashes, a smattering of freckles like stardust across his skin and perfectly pink lips pulled into a smile with too many teeth. He was inhuman but gods above, he was gorgeous and Virgil found himself speechless.

Unfortunately, Roman had no such affliction.

“Oh! Hello, sir! Uh.” Roman seemed to pause there, unsure of what exactly the etiquette was for asking mythical deities for a favour. Virgil couldn’t blame him. “We were _hoping_ to find you!”

The being laughed, bright and bell-like. It seemed to whip through the trees like a breeze, chasing its way through the clearing and causing Virgil’s breath to catch in his throat.

“Well, you found me!” the being said, taking a step forward, “I’ve had many names over the years but you can call me Patton. May I have your name?”

Roman perked up, preparing to introduce himself. “Oh! I-”

“No.”

Virgil cut straight through Roman’s words, breaking them into pieces in the air around them.

Patton laughed again—there was more of an echo to it this time, bouncing around inside his skull. “Oh! A clever one, huh? Alright. What may I call you then?”

Virgil thought for a moment, pushing down the want running through every inch of his body that asked for him to give himself up to this being, to push himself forward and sink into his arms and never leave. What they were doing was already dangerous enough; they weren’t going to receive anything if they weren’t careful here.

“You can call me Anxiety. This is Princey.”

Roman spluttered for a second at the choice of nickname but froze when Virgil turned a glare on him. Now was really not the time to be arguing about what the fae was allowed to call him. If he wasn’t such an idiot, next time, he could pick the nicknames.

Listen to him. “Next time”. As if they were likely to even get through this time unscathed.

Patton walked closer, almost gliding along the grass beneath him and Virgil vaguely noticed that the fae wasn’t wearing any shoes. He’s not sure why he was surprised, it wasn’t like he had much need for them.

“Alright, Anxiety,” Patton hummed, slipping around the human to lean against the well— _his_ well, “What’d you call me up for? Hmm? Are you looking for riches? Fame? Love?”

He tilted his head just a little bit more with each suggestion, curiosity stirred into his words, and Virgil tensed at the reminder of why they came, why they risked all of this in the first place.

“My brother.” Patton eyes, once trained over his shoulder into the forest behind, snapped to meet Virgil’s. “He’s sick; there’s something wrong with his lungs—they don’t know what and it’s just getting worse… He can barely even tell me about the stars anymore.”

His voice was close to breaking now, tears building up behind his eyes though he tried so hard not to let them fall. This was a negotiation, and he couldn’t afford to show such weakness.

“I’m here to trade for his health. I want to know what it’ll cost to have my brother alive and well again.”

The fae looked contemplative but there was a glint in his eyes that caused Virgil to think he’d already made up his mind.

“That’s a pretty big ask, you know…” Patton’s tone was playful, teasing with just an undercurrent of cockiness, “Who says I’d even be able to save your brother?”

Roman spoke up this time, pushing his way to the forefront of Virgil’s mind. Truthfully, he regretted even bringing him along but it _was_ Roman’s idea and he loved Logan just as much as Virgil did—albeit in a different way.

“You’ve done it before,” he said, words dripping with fake confidence, “For Thomas.”

Virgil cursed Roman out under his breath for using their friend’s real name but he supposed it was just one name. Don’t get him wrong, he was definitely gonna kick his ass for it later—assuming there was a later, of course—but he supposed it wasn’t the _worst_ thing he could have possibly done.

“Thomas, hmm?” The fae’s eyes were sparkling and Virgil couldn’t tell if it was the light, his imagination or just plain old magic. “And how do you know this Thomas exactly?”

From the corner of his eye, Virgil caught Roman tug at the necklace he wore under his shirt. It had been an anniversary present from Logan—a clear red stone tucked into a delicate wire frame, twisted into the shape of a tiny flower. Roman had insisted that he wear it, claiming it would be their good luck charm, though it didn’t seem to have brought them much luck so far.

“He runs the bar that we go to for drinks!” Roman hesitated then, rubbing lightly against the side of his neck. “Or, that we used to go to… before.”

There was something that flickered through the fae’s eyes but it was gone before Virgil could identify it, leaving behind only the barest hint of amusement. “Mmm, well maybe he’s lying. Maybe I can’t save your brother.”

Virgil felt rage bubbling up inside him, pressing up against his throat and threatening to spill out. He knew what Patton was saying wasn’t true—Thomas wouldn’t lie to them, especially not about this—and he was beginning to tire of the constant games. His patience was wearing thin, ready to snap, every word out of the fae’s mouth bringing him closer to that edge.

_“You can and you will.”_

The atmosphere changed in an instant.

Patton pushed himself from the well and strode towards him, seemingly towering over Virgil despite being several inches shorter. The playfulness in his eyes was absent. Instead, they felt void and ageless and Virgil shrunk down under his gaze, a chill making its way through his body. The forest became quiet, all background noises dying away as Virgil was completely spellbound by the fae in front of him—dangerous and so incredibly captivating.

“Oh, _will_ I?” Patton asked, tone innocent but demeanour anything but, “I think you’d better remember your place. After all, who’s the one asking whom for help?”

Virgil couldn’t speak—too caught up in the way every aspect of the fae looked just a little too perfect. It felt like a viewing someone from a dream, features seeming to shift and change before his eyes, almost fluid. He could identify them, sure, but there was still something about the fae’s appearance that was just too much for him to comprehend.

Virgil’s lips sat parted ever so slightly in shock and Patton giggled, bringing the noises of the forest rushing back, along with Roman’s shaky exhale from beside him.

The fae smiled brightly, showcasing his teeth in a brilliant and terrifying display. “That’s what I thought.”

Roman reached out to place a hand on his shoulder but Virgil brushed him off. There would be time for feelings later—hopefully. They had to concentrate on the task at hand. They couldn’t lose focus.

Once again, he opened his mouth to speak but Patton cut him off before he could.

“A year.”

The fae’s face was almost impassive as he regarded them, all of the earlier emotion hiding itself under his skin and seeping out into the air around them. Virgil couldn’t understand what the feeling was particularly but it caused a buzz to take up residence in his chest and made him want once again for things he couldn’t have.

He furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of what Patton had said. “What?”

“That’s what it will cost you. Your brother’s life for a year, I’d say that’s a steal.” He paused for a moment, twisting his lips as he thought. “I suppose, though, it would have to be a year from both of you to make this a fair trad-”

“I’ll take his.”

Virgil’s offer was immediate and decisive and a smile widened across Patton’s face.

“Wonderful,” he purred, tracing his tongue swiftly along his bottom lip and grinning at the way Virgil’s cheeks flushed hot.

Roman’s protests were drowned out by the fae stepping closer, crowding into his space and Virgil could only hear the sound of blood rushing in his ears and Patton’s lilting voice. “Two years with me—two years where I _own_ you—and your brother will be saved. Do you understand what you’re agreeing to, Anxiety? Consent is important.”

His head was whirling from the close proximity but he managed to form a coherent thought through all the haze. “You promise that I’ll come out of it safe and alive?”

“I do.” Patton’s expression was sincere, and maybe it was a mistake—maybe it was magic or maybe it was just poor judgement—but Virgil trusted him.

He took a deep, steadying breath. “Then I accept.”

And then lips were pressed to his.

It wasn’t anything that Virgil had expected it to be, and yet it was. It was sweet, cloying and hot and overwhelming, leaving him gasping for air but unable to move away—not _wanting_ to move away. The heat felt almost possessive. It trickled across his skin like honey, slow and syrupy and coating every inch of him, inside and out.

The way Patton’s hand rested against Virgil’s face caused a warmth to flare in his chest and Virgil finally pulled back, not missing the way Patton’s lips quirked for just a moment as he did.

“I’ll give you a day to prepare,” he spoke softly, gaze not leaving Virgil’s, “Meet me here at sundown tomorrow evening.”

Virgil nodded numbly, blinked twice and then the fae was gone.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, spinning him away from where he was gazing at the well with a blank look on his face. Maybe he was in shock, he didn’t know, but as his friend’s face came into view Virgil felt a spike of emotions shoot through him.

“Virge? What in the world have you _done?”_ Roman’s skin was ashy, his eyes wide and desperate and Virgil was wondering now if Roman had truly expected any of this to work at all. He _knew_ this is what they’d set out here to do, yet he seemed so regretful now.

That made one of them.

He knew in his heart he’d made the right decision; Logan was _so_ fucking important.

Logan had the most brilliant mind of anyone Virgil had ever met, breezing his way through school and on track to graduate university early before his illness had gotten in the way. Virgil had C’s in every class and a problem with authority, getting on teacher’s bad-lists before they’d even met him.

Logan had a boyfriend and friends who loved him, constantly inviting him out to drinks and whatever performance was running at the time, even if he did often turn them down. Virgil had Roman, Logan and the drawings on his walls, and it was really kind of sad that the only friends he could claim to have were his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.

Logan had a path in life, plans for where he was going to end up once he’d finally beaten the illness that kept him bedridden—and it was always when, never if, confidence unwavering even in the face of certain doom, though certainly exaggerated for his sake. Virgil had only fear for the future—certain he was never going to make a single thing of himself, a belief cooperated by every adult who’d ever had the pleasure of meeting him.

Logan was everything Virgil wished he could be and it wasn’t fair for that to be cut short because of situations outside anyone’s control. It wasn’t fair for Virgil to lose his big brother.

So, he knew exactly what he did. It was exactly what he had come here to do.

Virgil took a breath, looking Roman in the eyes with all of the confidence he could muster up.

“All that matters. I saved my brother.”


End file.
